It's Not Just a Mug
by BethBobby
Summary: Prompt: One morning Q couldn't find his favourite mug from which he liked to drink his Earl Grey...


'JAMES!'

The shout woke Bond from his sleep, jumping out of bed, gun already in hand.

'Q, are you okay?' he called, rushing into the kitchen of their apartment to find a dishevelled, angry looking quartermaster leaning against their counter with an overhead cupboard swinging open.

'Where is it?' he asked.

Bond frowned, putting the safety catch back on the gun and lowering it down onto the table.

'Q, what are you talking about?' he asked.

The kettle light went off, telling them both that it had boiled.

That wasn't good.

That meant that no Earl Grey had been drank that morning.

An angry dragon seemed a mild comparison to Q before his morning tea.

'James, you know what I'm talking about, where is my cup. It's not here. What did you do to it?' Q snapped, pointing at the cupboard, full of regular mugs, but missing one.

Bond let out a sigh and sat down onto the nearest sofa, 'I haven't touched your cup. You had it last night when you came home from work. What did you do with it?'

'I don't know what I did with it, you distracted me,' Q shot him an accusing look.

'So it's my fault your mug is missing because we had sex. Are you saying you objected to sex?' Bond raised an eyebrow.

Q faltered for a second, 'but if you hadn't, I would know where my cup is. I would have put it where I always put it and now it wouldn't be missing.'

'Well you'll just have to have your Earl Grey out of another mug. It's not like the world is ending. Just use another cup until we find it,' the older man told the younger, earning himself a glare that could rival Medusa.

Bond stood quickly, sensing the up and coming explosion that was becoming more and more imminent by the second.

'Q, sit.' He told him, planting a rough kiss on the quartermaster's lips before he had a chance to reply and gently pushing his shoulders, steering him over to the sofa before promptly pouring him a cup of tea and pushing it towards him.

'But I don't want that mug,' Q said, his voice almost a whine as he took a sip and grimaced, though he visibly deflated slightly.

Bond chuckled, 'I will find the mug whilst you are at work. It's probably in the bedroom somewhere.'

The agent walked over, sitting down on the sofa beside Q, sipping on his own coffee.

'The doctor said you're not supposed to have too much coffee while you're recovering,' Q stated, pointing towards James' mug.

'Doctor's fuss too much. I'm fine. I will drink coffee if I want to. He also told me to take it easy, but that didn't stop you,' he said, raising an eyebrow at Q, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

'Don't give me that bloody look. You started it.'

'You finished it though.' Bond said with a wink, taking a last swig of coffee before heading back to the bedroom.

'Come on Q, get dressed, you'll be late. M's already in a bad mood with us for screwing up her last mission.'

'It wasn't my fault you set off an alarm. I didn't tell you to text me during a mission. And I'm dressed, in case you hadn't noticed, not like you who spends more time naked than wearing clothes.'

Q stood and followed him, 'and you don't seriously think I'm letting you go back to work today. You're still signed off for another week. Do you really want me to call the doctor.'

'Q,' Bond walked over to the smaller man, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him in for a kiss, 'I am going back today. It is my job.'

He pressed his lips to Q's once more, attempting to pull him closer, but Q started to wriggle, pushing at his chest.

'No. No. You cannot do this now. First you've done something to my mug, I know you're denying it, but I know it's you. And now you try to get your own way through sex. No, James. For a good agent you're pretty transparent.' Q said.

Bond groaned, releasing him and stepping back 'I didn't touch your mug.'

'You did. It better be here when I get home. On the table. I mean it. I have to go and face a bunch of interns on a mouthful of shitty water because it doesn't taste right in another cup.'

'Work Q.'

'Goodbye James,' Q replied equally as sarcastically, straightening his jacket and picking up his bag.

'Play nicely,' Bond said with a grin as he followed Q to the door.

'It better be here.' Q said, stretching up to kiss him.

Bond rolled his eyes, watching the young quartermaster disappear down the hallway of their apartment block.

As soon as Q was out of earshot, Bond pulled out his phone and scrolled down the call log, searching for a number dialled last night.

The intern answered on the second ring with a quick 'hello.'

'You managed to pick up another cup right?' Bond asked.

'Yes sir, it's waiting on his desk as we speak.'

'Good, thank you.'

'Yes sir. May I ask what happened?'

'It smashed. I haven't spent years fighting to stay alive in the field to be killed by Q over a mug.'

He could have sworn he heard the girl laugh as she hung up.

Bloody interns.

**Hope you enjoyed? This didn't turn out the way I planned at all but I think I like it regardless.**


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